


Stupid First Kisses

by MyChemicalRachel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Like ridiculously short, M/M, Mistletoe, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5363000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyChemicalRachel/pseuds/MyChemicalRachel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a stupid idea for the pack to throw a Christmas party, an even stupider idea for Scott to insist it be held at the loft, and stupidest of all is how Derek got stuck under the mistletoe with Stiles of all people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid First Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KastielGrace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KastielGrace/gifts).



It was a stupid idea for the pack to throw a Christmas party, an even stupider idea for Scott to insist it be held at the loft, and stupidest of all is how Derek got stuck under the mistletoe with Stiles of all people.

Derek hadn’t really been paying attention to where he’d been walking when he bumped into the younger boy, muttering out a poor excuse for an apology, his sights already set on the cookies lining the table someone had pushed up against one wall. So he wasn’t happy everyone was crammed into his loft, but the fact that they’d brought food made it all a bit more tolerable. That is, until Erica squeals, pointing a slender finger above Derek’s head. He glances up, seeing the mistletoe, frowns at Erica and then at Stiles.

“You have to kiss,” Erica states. “It’s tradition.”

Derek watches his beta with an unamused expression. “No.”

Erica doesn’t look humored either. “You have to,” She repeats threateningly. “Or I will scent everything you own. Even your bed. You won’t even be able to put on a freaking sock without reeking of me.”

Derek turns to Stiles, maybe for some form of support, but the boy looks awkward and uncharacteristically quiet. “This is stupid,” Derek mutters.

“Your face is stupid.” And yeah, okay, even Stiles can admit that was a little childish, but he also doesn’t care.

“Your hat is stupid,” Derek retorts. He flicks the puffy white ball at the end of the Santa hat placed neatly atop Stiles’ head.

Stiles puts a hand against his chest and gasps dramatically. “Rude. Now you have to kiss me. Because you hurt my feelings.”

Derek quirks an eyebrow. “You have feelings?”

Stiles gapes. “Ouch. That hurts, Der-bear. I’d say you owe me two kisses now. Or we could just make out. If we stay here under the mistletoe all night, no one else will walk under it. We’ll be protecting everyone else from having to be kissed against their will. Yeah,” Stiles nods determinedly. “We should do that. We must protect their innocent lips, Derek. It’s our duty to--”

Derek can’t really explain what’s going through his head when he leans in and captures Stiles’ lips with his own. It was the only thing he could think of to shut Stiles up. The kid just would not stop talking, but now that there’s silence, Derek’s thoughts are roaring. He is kissing Stiles. Mouth on mouth. And he thinks he likes it, especially when Stiles melts into his touch, pressing up into him, linking an arm around his neck to bring them closer. It’s indescribable and frankly kind of frightening how, ten minutes ago, he wanted nothing more than Christmas cookies and solitude, and now he’s reveling in the taste of Stiles on his tongue.

When they break apart, Stiles is grinning. “We should totally do that more often.”

And Derek can’t help but agree, so when he presses his mouth to Stiles’ once more, it has nothing to do with shutting him up.

 

 


End file.
